


Cursed Souls

by reflectedcha0s



Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Curse of Strahd, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Gen, High Fantasy, Horror, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reflectedcha0s/pseuds/reflectedcha0s
Summary: Elle Weston is an outlaw with a dark past. Years ago, she made a pact with a witch in order to save her life, and was given extraordinary power, but of course, not without a cost. Sacrifice after sacrifice, demand after demand from her patron has taken its toll, and she grows tired of serving it. There is a purpose that she must fulfill 'when the time comes', but it is kept secret from her. One fateful day, Elle meets a mysterious stranger from an unknown land, who has sought her out. What she thought would be just a typical job as a hired guard leads to her awakening alone on a path in a dark forest, surrounded by thick, eerie mist...
Kudos: 6





	1. The Outlaw

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan fiction inspired by the 'Curse of Strahd' D&D 5e module. Mostly from the perspective of my character (who is actually from Earth, but a fictional, low-fantasy version). Occasional chapters will be written from Strahd's perspective. This is meant to be enjoyed as a narrative story rather than a retelling of everything that happened in the campaign I'm a part of.  
> Comments/kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Warning: contains mature/explicit themes - if you are uncomfortable with gothic horror, descriptions of violence, gore, and mentions of sexual assault, this probably won't be enjoyable for you.

_Warenstead, 1897.  
  
_

A young woman sat alone at a table tucked away in the back corner of an old, dimly lit saloon, her feet propped up, a small glass of whiskey in hand. She took a swig of the amber liquid and let out a sharp exhale.

There were not many patrons inside; the town’s population was low and it was late into the evening, so for once she could enjoy a drink without anyone pestering her. Or so she thought, until she saw a peculiar looking middle-aged man enter the establishment, pushing the swinging doors open and sauntering up to the bar.

He was tall and objectively handsome, with dark, wavy hair and a pointed goatee. He had a scimitar equipped to his belt and wore a long red coat with intricate, woven gold patterns. She noticed he smirked at her briefly as he leaned against the bar. The bartender was scowling at the man, reluctantly serving him. A common reaction the locals had to anyone who looked like an ‘outsider’.

She sighed and pulled down the brim of her hat further to hide her face.  
A few moments later, she heard footsteps approach on the creaky wooden floor, then stop in front of her. She stared down at leather boots and the bottom trim of an elegant coat. No one from around Warenstead wore such attire. 

“You must be this ‘arcane outlaw’ the rumours tell of. I have been looking for you.” A deep but charming voice said in a low tone, with an accent she was not familiar with.  
“Oh, and what’ve you heard about me?” The young woman replied in her usual drawl, not peering up, only huffing quietly in annoyance at being bothered.

The mysterious man took a seat at the table uninvited, and set down another drink, sliding it to her. She simply stared without reaching for it.  
“People speak of a gunslinger dressed in black, with truly deadly aim, and magic powers that defy all logic and reason… of this realm.”  
He leaned back in his chair, grinning. “There is also this,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper, then set it spread out on the table.  
It had a rough illustration of a figure wearing a half-skull mask, a long duster coat, a wide brimmed hat, a bandolier full of bullets, and holding a revolver. Above the image, in all capital, bold letters:

_**WANTED** _   
_**DEAD OR ALIVE** _

And further down the page, listed the crimes and the reward:

_$10,000_   
_For the capture of the notorious masked outlaw (identity unknown), for murder, train & bank robbery, extortion, thievery, destruction of government property, and witchcraft._

“You have an incredibly high bounty on your head.” The man sounded amused, almost impressed.  
“Here to kill me and get that reward for yourself?” She chuckled humourlessly. “If so, good luck with that.” Another gulp of whiskey and it was gone. She set down the empty glass firmly. The gunslinger had a relaxed manner about her; unfazed, even looking a little bored.

“Oh no,” the man said, shaking his head slowly. “Am I correct in assuming that you are also occasionally a gun-for-hire, miss _Elle Weston_?”  
At that, the woman’s head craned up in surprise, now fully revealing her face to him. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with sun-kissed skin, silver-white hair, and even under the shadow of her hat, her vibrant, violet eyes stood out, fixed on him.

“Well, well…” she said, as she put her feet down and sat upright. “Haven’t heard anyone address me by my actual name in a long time. Thought I’d travelled enough that my old identity was left far behind me.” She raised a brow at him.  
“The past always has a way of…catching up to us, eventually,” he smirked.  
Elle was intrigued and perturbed by this fellow at the same time.

She leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. “I’m curious about how you found out that information, considerin' most who knew me as Elle are dead, or think _I’m_ dead.”  
The man crossed one leg over the other and steepled his fingers together. “It is my speciality, you could say, to track down interesting people. To be blunt: you are not subtle.” He smirked again. “ It was not difficult to put together the missing pieces."

Elle laughed weakly. “There ain’t much ‘round here that’s a threat to me. Suppose I stopped bein’ worried about coverin’ my tracks long ago.”  
The man nodded. “People fear you. What you can do. Magic is indeed a powerful weapon, especially when you are the only one around with such abilities."  
Elle frowned. “You seem to know a lot about me, mister, while I don’t know a damn thing about you. Can I get a name, at least?”

“Of course,” he smiled politely, but still with that devilish charm in his eye. “I am Arrigal.”  
“Okay, Arrigal. Wher'you from?”  
“My people and I—the Vistani—we hail from a beautiful land called Barovia.” Arrigal took a sip of his own drink, swirling the liquid around the glass.  
Elle’s face contorted into a baffled, doubtful expression. “I been to a lot of places… Consider myself a well-travelled individual. Never heard of ‘Barovia’.”  
“This does not surprise me,” Arrigal chuckled. “It is very far from here. A place unmarked on your maps."

Elle drummed her fingers against the table. “Interestin',” she mumbled, while giving him a suspicious glance. There was a chance he could be trying to lure her out of a public area, to capture or kill her for the price on her head. Normally, Elle was not threatened by bounty hunters or lawmen, but Arrigal made her uneasy. He knew about her past, her magic, and where to find her. It was certainly peculiar.

“I can tell you more about it along the way, if you wish,” Arrigal said, seeming to sense her discomfort. “Back to the reason I am here—I need a guard for my clan’s caravans. We have many valuables and supplies collected, to be traded and sold…” Arrigal then looked concerned, his brow furrowing, “but there are plenty of bandits on the roads, and beasts, and we have already suffered too many losses on our journeys. I require someone with your specific skill set; someone who can kill both man and monster.”  
“Well, I'm your gal.” Elle gave a cocky, half-grin. “For the right price.”

Arrigal nodded knowingly and reached inside his coat, pulling off a large coin pouch from his belt. It landed with a heavy clank on the table. “Will fifty gold coins suffice?” He leaned back and watched with amusement as the gunslinger opened the pouch and her eyes widened. “Even more, if you would consider travelling with us longer?” He proposed. “You will have a place to sleep, food and drink in your belly. In addition to unique company, of course,” he added with a wink.

Elle finished counting her payment, closed the pouch and shoved it into her satchel. She placed a hand to her chin, stroking it in thought. She had no plans. Nowhere in particular to go. Wandering solo for years. Although she would never admit it, she was lonely. She would just have to remain cautious for the time being, as an uneasy feeling still lingered within.

As Elle was ruminating, she didn’t notice the bartender approach. He cleared his throat, eyeing them both with disdain while drying off a mug. “Sorry folks,” he said in a fake apologetic tone, “closing up for the night. You’ll have to get goin’ now.”  
“We leave as soon as we finish our drinks,” Arrigal replied firmly. “Will not be long.” He gave the bartender a hard stare, causing him to sigh and walk off. The two of them were the only ones left in the saloon.

Elle gave an appreciative nod, which Arrigal returned. “Will you join us? Or do you have other obligations?” He asked, looking at her inquisitively.  
“I go where the money takes me.” She shrugged. “So, you’ve got yourself a guard. For now.”  
“Excellent!” Arrigal exclaimed, with a single clap of his hands. “Shall we be on our way, then?” He extended his glass toward her, smiling warmly.  
“Suppose so.” Elle picked up her drink, and clinked her glass against his, downing the last of the whiskey.

The two rose from their seats and exited the saloon. Once outside, Elle took in a deep inhale of the crisp night air. She gave her horse a pat on the snout and untied the reigns from the hitching post. The mare nickered happily upon seeing her owner. Arrigal unhitched his horse, also giving it a gentle caress, and they made their way out of the quiet town, walking along the uneven dirt road. Crickets chirping, the clopping of hooves, and Arrigal enthusiastically rambling about the sights they would see and treasures they would collect were the only sounds to be heard. Elle listened with a weak smile, occasionally tuning him out with her own thoughts, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of apprehension.


	2. The Vistani

Two hours passed before Arrigal announced that they were approaching the Vistani encampment. He made certain that his clan was isolated and away from civilization.

It was after midnight, the full moon shone brightly and the stars painted the cobalt sky. They rode through the desert terrain in silence for a while, taking in the majestic scenery. It was nothing new to Elle, but she never tired of seeing the vast sandstone buttes, and the colourful flora and fauna.

“Alright, got a question.” Elle spoke up.

Arrigal blinked in surprise. “I would be more than happy to answer.”

Elle paused for several moments. “So, you really went out of your way to find me, a highly wanted criminal, to guard your caravans. You trust that I won’t just rob you myself?”

“That does not seem like something you would do,” Arrigal replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, right. ‘Cause you know me so well.” She scoffed.

“I know of your crimes, yes... but also your kinder deeds. You steal, but give to those in poverty. You kill, but most of your targets are those the world is better off without; abusers, slavers, bandits and the like. You rid of monsters that would prey on innocent victims.” Arrigal said. “The outlaw with a compassionate side… It is rather touching.” He grinned slyly.

Elle shot him an unimpressed glare, but she couldn’t deny what he said. She was, at times, empathetic, but she had done many awful things in the past. Not all in her control, but still awful, and she would likely spend the rest of her life feeling remorse, trying to drink it away. "I'm just sayin'—I ain't as 'good' as you might think."

“I could say the same about myself. Besides, I doubt you would attack and steal from a group of travellers, especially when there are women and children among us. If you did, you would certainly regret it my friend,” Arrigal’s eyes went dark with warning. “Plus, you would miss out on the gold!” The threatening aura quickly dissipated and he barked a laugh, winking at her. 

Elle glanced down to the scimitar at his side. “Right…” she drawled. “So, what kind of trouble exactly have you been dealing with on the road?” She asked, wondering what she should be prepared for.

“Dire wolves, ghouls, vampire spawn…” Arrigal responded gravely. “My clan and I are not helpless—but there is just too many of them. Along with the bandits that are so rampant in this area…”

“I’ll take care of ‘em, no problem.” Elle said, not disconcerted. 

“That is what I like to hear,” Arrigal said, nodding firmly. “I am glad to have you with us.”

“No other hired help?”

Arrigal shook his head. “None. At the mere mention of just the dire wolves, even seasoned mercenaries begin to quake in their boots. Few are equipped to take on such beasts."

Elle understood. Supernatural creatures were an uncommon sight, and often only roamed the deep wilderness. With cities and towns ever expanding, more and more people preferred to stay safe within their walls.

A few more minutes went by and they finally came to a small lake. The encampment was set up close to the water, colourful tents and lean-tos pitched, bonfire burning high and bright, lantern-lit wagons mostly packed and ready to depart in the coming hours. Untethered horses grazed and roamed nearby. It all appeared cozy and inviting.

“Home,” Arrigal smiled, extending his hand toward the scene. “Until the morning light, that is.”

They were greeted enthusiastically by the other Vistani, around fifteen of them, Elle counted, as they rode into the camp. They received friendly waves and beckons to come drink by the bonfire. Elle and Arrigal demounted from their horses. She gave the mare a pat before turning to face the group of strangers.

“Be good now, Buttercup,” she said softly.

Arrigal snickered, attempting to hide it with his hand by rubbing his nose, but Elle caught on. “Somethin’ funny?” She snapped.

“Ah, it is just…forgive me, I find it a tad humorous that a coarsened outlaw would choose such a name for their horse.” He shrugged apologetically.

Elle stared at him through a half-lidded gaze. “I didn't choose the horse's name.” She said flatly.  
  
“Oh?”

“Don’t get excited. I ain’t gonna elaborate,” Elle responded. Truthfully, the horse was already named, and given to her by an old friend, who had long since passed. It was not an enthralling secret, but she felt Arrigal knew an uncomfortable amount of information about her as it was.

“Very well,” Arrigal chuckled lightly. “Anyway…” He extended his arms out towards the lavish, vibrantly-dressed people. “I have returned! With a guest, you see,” he announced, gesturing to Elle at his side.

She gave a small, awkward wave.

“You have found someone to help us! My, Arrigal, this one is unique.” A young woman approached, regarded Elle’s oddly coloured hair and eyes, but then placed a hand on her cheek and squeezed it affectionately. “Lovely. Certainly in need of a bath, though.” She began wiping away the dry dirt from Elle’s face. Elle flinched away at the touch, but tried to smile.

Three other women came to greet her, shaking her hand one by one and guiding her into the camp. Elle was not expecting such a warm welcome, and was prepared to simply walk along the outskirts of the camp in order to not disturb anyone. Clearly, that would not be happening. She was plopped down at a bench by the fire and a mug full of burgundy liquid was thrusted into her hands.

“Here, drink,” an older woman offered, but it sounded more like a command. “Wine, from Barovia.” She smiled. "The best there is."

“Alright, I’m never one to turn down a drink.” Elle smirked at her.

A roast turned over the fire, the aroma of slow cooked meat filled her nose and made her stomach rumble. It had been many hours since she last ate. The wine also smelled delicious. She inhaled its scent before taking a sip. It was sweet, but not overtly so, with a pleasant, bitter aftertaste that sat on her tongue.

Elle raised the mug in appreciation. “Thank you.”

She was soon handed a dish full of meat and vegetables. The camp ate and drank happily while chatting amongst each other. Elle enjoyed the food, chewing slowly to savour the taste while observing her surroundings and listening to the pleasant, soft music being played on lutes and drums. The Vistani seemed to be rather diverse; consisting of artisans, fortune tellers, traders, merchants, musicians, and warriors. All flamboyant and amiable.  
Elle was not used to being in such company, as she usually kept to herself.

Arrigal eventually joined and took a seat beside her. “So, is the meal to your liking?”

Elle nodded, still with a mouth full. “S’real good.” She swallowed, then cleared her throat. “Do y’all need me to keep watch for the rest of the night after I’m finished with this?"

“No, enjoy a good night’s rest! Right now we are safe. There are others standing guard at the moment. Your job starts in the morning.” He patted her on the back.

“Alright, then,” Elle responded. She was grateful to be able to relax a while longer. “If I am needed though, just holler."

“Of course,” Arrigal smiled. “Many thanks.”

Elle eyed the elegant silks embroidered with colourful, swirling patterns that were draped over the tables and benches. “You must be doin’ well for yourselves, to be livin’ this comfortably,” she remarked. "It is a nice setup you have."

“We are; much of our wealth comes from Barovia, though. It is more difficult to sell and trade around these parts—unfortunately there is prejudice against us.”

Elle frowned, knowing exactly what he meant. She had seen plenty of racism and experienced sexism throughout her life. “Barovia must be a real nice place, then,” she said. “Why leave?”

“Oh, I think you would love it.” Arrigal said with a look Elle couldn’t quite make sense of. “Simply put, the Vistani do not like to be tied down. We are known as the 'world-walkers' for a reason.”

“S’pose I can understand that—I got no roots, myself. There’s a lot out there to see and experience.”

“Precisely,” Arrigal agreed, pouring himself some wine and taking a sip. “A life spent in the same place for too long would be incredibly dull.”

Elle finished her wine and set down the mug. It was immediately refilled by the same older woman who first offered it. These folks were certainly hearty drinkers. “Thanks, ma’am.”   
  
Arrigal watched her intently, and how she responded to interactions around her. He was able to catch her surprise at being treated with generosity. "A life spent alone would also be incredibly dull," he said. "You have been by yourself for how long?"  
  
"Oh, er..." Elle sighed. She dropped her shoulders and buried her face into her drink. "A few years," she mumbled, before taking a long sip. It was barely audible spoken into the mug, but he understood.

Arrigal nodded solemnly. "I see." A few beats of silence passed. "After we get to the bordering country, and do our business there, we will continue on, Eastbound. Eventually going back to Barovia, for some months. You should join us."

Elle shifted uneasily. "It's usually just better for me to ride solo. Can't say how long I'll stay."  
  
Though deeply curious, knowing there was more behind her words, Arrigal did not press further. "Suit yourself. The offer is there."

The gunslinger simply nodded without further comment. Chatter began to lull as the Vistani were settling in for the night. The music stopped and the crackling of the bonfire became louder. Arrigal went about to check on his people, saying goodnight, aiding with packing up the remainder of their belongings. She watched him speaking with a man who looked similar to him, only taller and stalkier. It seemed Arrigal, or perhaps the two, were the clan leaders. The larger man's gaze occasionally shifted to her as their conversation continued. Elle sat uncomfortably, unsure of what to do, so she downed another full mug of wine. Socializing was never her forte.

The same young Vistana woman from earlier came up to her again. "You must really like the wine," she said, staring at the mug, then back to Elle with slightly widened eyes.

"I like...alcohol in general." Elle wiped her lip and gave a lopsided smirk. Normally it took _a lot_ to get her drunk, but the Barovian wine must have been particularly strong, because she was definitely feeling tipsy.

"Elle, is it?" the woman asked.

Elle nodded.

"I am Ilana," she said.

"Howdy." Elle responded.

"Hello."

Ilana continued to stare expectantly, as if she were waiting for something. "Um..." Elle shifted her eyes. "Can I help you?"

"Do you like to swim?" Ilana asked. She looked back to the small lake that reflected the night sky, then back to Elle with a grin.

"I...suppose so," Elle shrugged.  
  
Ilana giggled. "Why don't you come to the water with me and the other women? Like I said before, you could use a bath."

Elle scoffed softly, feeling briefly offended, but then realized it had been too long since she last washed off the grit and grime. "Alright, fine." Elle groaned while standing up. She followed Ilana to the other side of the lake, far enough away from the eyes of any leering men.

Three other Vistani women were there, all about the same age, mid-twenties to early thirties. They waved to Elle. They had glass bottles of some sort of scented lotion with them, and linen cloths for scrubbing. They handed her one of each and motioned to the water. "In you go!"  
"Alright, sheesh. I must really smell bad." Elle grumbled, rolling her eyes, making the women laugh.

Ilana and the others began to strip from their robes and shawls, and toss them aside. Elle averted her gaze to the ground. She waited for them to enter the water first, and as they were preoccupied, chatting and laughing, splashing each other and jumping off the tall rock in the center of the lake, she quickly stripped down and hurried in, wincing a bit as the chill hit her skin.

The vistani women stopped to look at her, and Elle froze, feeling slightly self-conscious from the attention.

"Beautiful tattoos," one of them exclaimed.

"Oh yes," another chimed in.

Elle sunk down into the water at shoulder level. "Thanks." 

"May I have a closer look?" Ilana asked. Without waiting for an answer, Ilana swam closer. Elle tried again to avert her eyes. Ilana smiled and gently gripped the other woman's left arm, turning it over to admire the inkwork; a rose with vines that wrapped around to just above the wrist. And on her right arm; a dagger with a snake coiled around the hilt and blade. On her shoulder; a compass with criss-crossed arrows behind it. On her upper chest; a bull's skull. Ilana swam behind Elle and checked her back. "I think this one is my favourite," Ilana remarked, taking a finger and tracing it along the raven and its wings.  
Elle felt her face grow hot. She was not sure if this was flirting, or the Vistani were just like this with every newcomer. Either way, Elle was touch-starved, and each little bit of contact felt like a spark that stung. Ilana seemed to notice Elle's flustered expression. "I am sorry," she winced. "I did not mean to cause you discomfort." 

Elle wasn't sure how to respond. "It's...alright. I would really just prefer to... bathe in peace, then get some shut-eye."

"Of course," Ilana said, bowing her head. "Have a pleasant night." She smiled sweetly and then turned to swim back to the other women. They seemed disappointed at Elle's aloofness, but she paid them no further mind.

Elle focused on scrubbing herself completely clean. Once she felt refreshed, she swam to shore, dried herself off with a towel and got redressed.

  
As she made her way back, she decided to check on Buttercup. She approached the mare, who whinnied and began to trot over to meet her. The other horses owned by the Vistani followed. She greeted them each, admiring their beautiful dark coats and long braided manes. The Vistani clearly groomed them well and took pride in their horses. Elle gave Buttercup a pat on the snout, then pressed her forehead against it. "How about a treat?" Elle said, reaching in her satchel and pulling out an oatcake from its package. It vanished in a second as Buttercup happily crunched away. "There ya go," Elle smiled fondly, patting the horse's side. She removed the saddle and did a check for all her stored weapons: a shotgun, a rifle, extra ammo of many kinds. She carried the saddle with her, said goodnight to Buttercup, fully trusting she would not wander off, and made her way back to the fire.

Arrigal was still awake, waiting for her. He gestured to a single, plush bedroll on the ground. "I assumed you would be more comfortable out here, rather than in the tents with us."

"You assumed correct," Elle said gratefully. She set the saddle down near her bedroll, then took a seat at bench again and held her hands up close to the flames, trying to warm herself up before going to sleep. As tired as she was, she wanted to stay up a while longer and do a sketch in her journal of the peaceful scene, but would wait until she was alone. The fire crackled and roared, filling the silence of the night. Elle breathed in deeply, then slowly exhaled. "I appreciate the hospitality."

"It is no trouble." He waved his hand. "How about one last drink, hm?" Arrigal reached for the mug behind him and extended it towards her. He grabbed another for himself.

Elle chuckled. "Hm...Best hope I'm not hungover later." She accepted the mug, watching Arrigal take a drink from his own, then let the pleasant tasting wine touch her lips. She sipped it quietly, but quickly, finishing half in no time. Arrigal's gaze was fixed on her. A little too closely, she noticed. Her expression changed from relaxed to worried, brow furrowing, as the world around her began to violently sway. Panicking, she tried to get to her feet, but nearly tripped. Arrigal caught her, letting out a menacing laugh as Elle swore internally. She should have listened to her gut feeling and not let her guard down. "Careful, now..." He lowered the gunslinger onto the bedroll, then stood above her, hands on his hips, looking smug. She noticed some other Vistani emerging and peering from behind Arrigal with sly grins.  
"What th... hell'd... you do..." Elle's words were slurred and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

"Rest while you can. Barovia awaits, and it has much in store for you." Arrigal forewarned with a wicked smile. She watched helplessly as he turned and walked away, and her vision faded to black.


	3. The Mists

_"Awaken, girl, lest you be consumed by the wolves!"_

Elle heard a familiar voice in her head and came to slowly, what felt like hours later. Through hazy vision she could discern rays of moonlight that shone through dark, thick trees. Their branches twisted around and through each other and almost completely blocked the view of the night sky. Shivering, she sat up from the cold ground, readjusted her hat, and looked around frantically.

A heavy mist blanketed the forest floor, but seemed to avoid the path she sat on. Upon closer inspection, she noticed it behaved strangely, as if there were an invisible barrier stopping it from drifting onto the path. The sudden hoot of an owl broke her concentration.

Elle got to her feet, clutching her pounding head. "God damn it!" She hissed through her teeth. The Vistani had her fooled. If she ever encountered Arrigal again, she would _kill_ him.   
She checked her holster and each of her pockets. Her revolver was gone, as was her ammunition. She opened her satchel. Everything gone. The most upsetting of all was her horse was nowhere to be found. Buttercup was important to her, and they shared a close bond. Elle paced back and forth along the path, wondering what to do. Head back? Forward?

The distant but loud howling of what sounded like a large pack of wolves from behind her, hidden within the forest, gave her an answer. "Forward then," Elle mumbled, picking up her pace. The path would lead to somewhere, she hoped. Without her weapons and supplies, she wasn't defenseless. She still had her magic. She kept her hand raised with a readied cantrip as she continued to walk, in case the wolves decided to attack.

An anxious knot in her stomach continued to grow. After an hour of walking, the trees became denser, as did the mist. The normal, lively sounds of the woods grew noticeably absent.

She eventually approached a wooden sign, crudely nailed to a tree. She could just faintly make out the writing:

**_DO NOT LEAVE THE PATH._ **

"Seems like solid advice." She frowned. Keeping to the path, Elle made sure to stay away from the mist that threatened to engulf her, while wondering what would happen if she were to walk through it. 

Another half hour passed, and any light from the moon was gradually blocked by the trees. She was in almost complete darkness, disoriented, agitated and wary. "Where the hell am I?!" She yelled in frustration. The mist seemed to carry every sound she made much farther than usual, causing her to feel exposed, and suddenly regret her outburst. 

Elle stood in place for a moment, attempting to regain her composure. "Can't turn back now. Keep goin'." She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled through her mouth slowly. The moment she felt a tad calmer and took a step forward to continue walking, she heard a voice call out in the distance. It was hard to tell just how far away it was, but she could tell it came from ahead of her.

"Who's out there?" The questioning voice was deep and masculine.

She did not respond. Her right hand sparked with a crackling violet energy, preparing to be unleashed at any potential danger.

Suddenly, a radiant light began to pierce through the darkness, causing Elle to wince. As it drew nearer, the light revealed an old man, short and stocky, white-haired with a bushy beard, and wearing a shining chest plate. Beneath the chest plate he wore a knee-length tunic. Deep scars ran down the left side of his face. Elle kept her cantrip aimed at him.

Beside the older man was a younger fellow, towering well over six feet tall, athletically built and fully clad in steel plate armour. Upon seeing Elle, he glanced down at her hand, and his lip curled into a sneer. "Oh. A warlock."

Elle raised an eyebrow. "A what, now?"

"I recognize your eldritch magic. I also sense the presence of a dark fey." He peered down at her with a harsh gaze.

She didn't know there were different kinds of magic, or what a fey was. The only thing she did know was that her magic came from an ancient, powerful witch. "I... uh..."

The older man interjected. "Do not mind him. Are you lost as well? We assumed it was you who called out." He sounded much softer and kinder. Regardless, Elle backed away slowly.

"We're not going to hurt you," the tall man said. "Unless you give us a reason to." He gestured to her hand, which was now sparking more intensely.

"I'm just tryin' to get out of this goddamn forest and find the nearest town." Elle explained, sounding exasperated.

"As are the three of us," the older man said. "If you would like, we could try to navigate our way out together? Seems we have all ended up in this place under rather mysterious circumstances."

Three? Elle peered behind the two men, and noticed a lithe figure, waving at her politely, but trembling. Elle blinked in surprise as she studied her. She had curled horns atop her heard similar to that of a ram, copper-toned skin, auburn hair that was wild and messy, with some pieces braided, pointed ears and a tail that was tucked against her. Elle stared for a moment too long, perplexed as to what this impish looking woman was.

"We are currently on the old Svalich road... leading to the village of Barovia," informed the tall, armoured man. "It's more likely we'll survive if we stick together. Especially considering none of us seem to have weapons."

Elle quietly sighed. There was that name again. Barovia. She was headed right to where the Vistani wanted her to go. Though confident in her abilities and survival skills, she knew it would be safer for the time being to travel in a group at least until they found some civilization. There were plenty of nights she spent alone in the woods where she was from, but this place was different. It was eerie and unknown, and she felt afraid.

"To hopefully make things a bit more amiable, we should introduce ourselves to you." The horned woman stepped forward, giving a small smile that revealed pointed incisors. She looked to Elle with round, green eyes. "I am Avali."

"I am Hosea," the old man said with a deep, humble bow of his head. 

"Jerahn." The brawnier man added curtly. "Let's make the formalities quick and get a move on. I can't stand the smell of this place."

Elle stated her name aloud, but looked at Jerahn quizzically. The air smelled like regular cold air to her. "What d'you mean by that?" 

Jerahn gritted his teeth before responding. "As a Paladin, I am blessed with divine sense. The entirety of this forest has an acrid, bitter scent. It's rather overwhelming, I've never felt it this strong before." His nostrils flared in disgust.

Hosea looked deeply troubled by Jerahn's words. "May the Morning Lord watch over us..." he murmured.

Paladin? Divine sense? Morning Lord? Elle wondered. Questions best saved for a later time, once they were out of the woods, away from the mist, hopefully alive. She hummed, frowning. "This is all mighty strange, to put it simply. I'm eager to get out as well." She sighed, but then held an arm out towards the dark road. "To Barovia, then?"

Jerahn stepped forward, taking the lead, nearly butting Elle aside. She sneered at him behind his back. The others followed in his wake, Elle being the last.

Another hour passed, and no one uttered a single word. Perhaps out of fear, suspicion, distrust, or a combination of all three.

Elle was starting to tire. The soles of her feet were aching in her boots. Her thoughts drifted to Buttercup. As sad as it seemed, it was often that her horse was the only one she talked to. She hoped that she was at least still with the Vistani, being taken care of, out of any danger. She wanted to ask more questions about the strangers she travelled with, in attempt to relieve some of the tension in the air. Elle and Avali shared occasional glances as if they wanted to speak up.

A shrill screaming suddenly cut through the silence, interrupting Avali as she opened her mouth. Elle froze. Collectively, their heads perked up and searched for the source of the noise. There was another scream, this time followed by cries for help.

"Sounds like children." Jerahn broke into a sprint without hesitation. The rest looked at each other with uncertainty and wariness. "Hol' up, there!" Elle called after the paladin. "It could be a trap!"  
 _What happened to sticking together?_

Jerahn did not reply. He continued to run at an impressive speed. The group hesitantly took off after him. A solid minute of running lead them to a break in the woods, the path split into another direction, to the front of an old, three-story brick manor. Light could be seen from the inside, but it was quiet, aside from a young boy and girl crying in the front yard, looking frantic.

Once again, Elle had a deeply uneasy feeling overcome her, as she stood on the path in front of the house while the others approached the front yard and opened the wrought iron gate, Jerahn still at the head. She examined the area around them. There was nothing but a dilapidated, abandoned stable and servant's house adjacent to the manor. A chill crept up her spine.

Jerahn got down to one knee, and spoke to the children and spoke in a softer, yet urgent tone. "What's the matter? Is anyone hurt? Where is your family?"

The girl, presumably the older sibling, held her brother, who was hysterical. They were both dressed in elegant noble's clothing. She tempted to comfort the small boy by stroking his hair, but she herself looked noticeably shaken and trying to hold back tears. "Our p-parents and our baby brother a-are inside. There's a m-monster in our house! You have to save them, please!"

"What kind of monster?" Jerahn asked, glancing up at the house to see if he could catch a glimpse of anything. 

"W-We could not see it, we just heard growling from the basement, and then our father told us to run outside! Then we heard the beast attacking. Please help them!" She sobbed, tugging on Jerahn's hand, urging him towards the manor. The paladin looked back to the party, to the house, then back to the party again. "Just give me a few minutes. I can't keep walking by and ignore people possibly in danger; it would weigh too heavily on my conscience." He said firmly, already making his way up to the front door.

"Beast or no beast," Hosea said, "I will not have you go alone." He made a half-circular motion with his hand, palm flat, fingers spread out. Elle was not sure what it meant, but she guessed some sort of protection spell, or perhaps a religious gesture to a deity. Hosea followed Jerahn, who turned to wait for him at the first step.

Elle looked to Avali, who was standing by the children, eyeing the house nervously. "This seems...odd." She remarked.

"You got that right," Elle replied, voice raised towards Jerahn and Hosea, as she opened the gate and walked along the cobblestone path into the yard. "Y'all wanna go into an old house in the middle of some unnaturally creepy forest because two kids are cryin' about a monster in the basement?" She held her arms out in an are-you-serious gesture, then dropped them to her sides. Elle then scowled at the children. Her expression briefly softened into one of pity when she noticed them looking right at her with their big eyes welled with tears, terrified and desperate, seemingly innocent. They continued to sob harder. Elle shook her head. "Oh no no, I'm not fallin' for that. You mean to tell me you and your family live in these woods, knowin' about whatever dangers are lurkin', but were unprepared if somethin' were to attack?" She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, waiting for an answer.

Through gentle sobs, the little girl spoke up. "They...always have protected us...from anything...but this time is different...something is very wrong." She buried her face in her hands. Her brother continued to wail loudly. Elle winced, wanting to cover her ears.

Avali glared at Elle. "I agree that this is a bit skeptical, but no need to be so harsh. They're just kids." She shushed the boy gently, bending down to his eye level. He flinched away, frightened by her devilish appearance for a moment, but her voice was soothing and gentle, so he stepped forward again. She steadied him. "What's your name, love?"

"Thorn," the boy said while sniffling. Avali nodded, then glanced to his sibling. "And yours, love?" 

"I'm Rose," she replied faintly.

"Alright. Rose, Thorn, it'll be alright. We're going to do our best to help." Avali reassured them.

Jerahn had his arms crossed over his chest, also giving Elle an icy glare. "You can stay here and continue to interrogate the poor children, but the rest of us will be inside." He turned on his heel and entered the house, followed by Hosea.

"Please give Sir Brave to Walter, our brother. Sir Brave always helps him when he cries..." Thorn said, lip quivering. He held out the ragdoll he was previously hugging tight towards Avali, and dropped it in her hand. It was a vaguely humanoid shape, with button eyes and a stitched mouth. She grasped it and nodded once. "Okay." She smiled softly. Avali turned to Elle. "At least keep an eye on them..." She jerked her chin towards the children. She held the doll with her at her side, then hurried up the front steps to the house. Avali gave one last glance back at Elle before she closed the door behind her, but left it slightly ajar.

Elle remained with Rose and Thorn. Minutes passed. They sobbed and sobbed, until she couldn't bare to listen to them any longer. She actually did feel sorry for them, but she was also hesitant about trusting anyone after what happened with the Vistani. They lead her to this awful place; what if these children were just another part of the trick? What if these strangers she travelled with briefly were part of it as well? Yet another lure into something even more dangerous? She wondered if she was being overly paranoid, as she chewed at a single fingernail and eyed the front door.

Rose, who couldn't have been any older than nine, Elle guessed, stared up at her, wiping tears away. "Your friends are so nice and brave, miss. You are lucky to have them."

Elle let out a sharp laugh. "They ain't my friends. We just met. I'll be lucky to be rid of 'em soon." She frowned.

The girl dropped her gaze to the ground. "Oh. Sorry." 

Elle continued to stare at the manor. She considered keeping to the path towards Barovia on her own. She stood with her arms crossed for a few moments, pacing, debating internally on what she should do. She had _no_ money or supplies with her aside from the clothes on her back. Now could be her chance to steal some useful or valuable items. Weapons, too, perhaps. The children's parents must be wealthy to own such a large home. Once she was better equipped, she would split from the group.

She came to a halt. "I've decided, if this monster is as fierce as you say," she feigned boldness, "then they'll probably need my help, after all." With a snap of her fingers, a flash of magic energy surged over her, then disappeared. An armour spell gifted from her patron, that would allow her to take a few hard hits without being injured. It always came in handy during a firefight, and was the reason why so many people in her world believed she was unkillable. "You two stay right here, no wanderin' off. We'll be out soon, alright?"

The children's eyes lit up as they nodded, still with tears rolling down their round cheeks. "Thank you!" Rose said. "Please hurry!"

Thorn hugged her leg. "Save mommy and daddy and Walter, okay?"

Elle sighed, patted his hair and nudged him away gently. "Can't make any promises, kid." She traipsed up the front steps to the stone archway before the door, and passed the second wrought-iron gate. It squeaked loudly as she closed it behind her, then latch fell in to place. She opened the double doors to the manor, stood in the foyer for a moment and listened for any sounds at all from within - yelling, growling, scuttling, scratching, but there was nothing. Surely, a monster attacking people would make some racket. Unless it was already finished with its meal, and lurking somewhere. While the others were investigating, she would begin her search for loot, while keeping her guard up, just in case there was in fact someone or something skulking about.


End file.
